A Diary
by Jon the Great
Summary: Memoirs of an unknown soldier.


Day 1,

I'm going to try to write in this everyday I'm here on the battlefield so you guys back home can see what it's like when you're on the call of duty. It gets pretty lonely out here. I got stuck in Charlie squad which is home for many veterans and men who've already been in the line of fire. Naturally, I'm left out. I'm the clean-cut rookie guy everyone likes to rag on. They make fun of my lack of equipment, which you can choose after you've done some stuff on the battlefield. Basically, you're seen by what you've got on your gun. By what you use to kill. I'm gonna have to learn to adapt to the rough nature of these guys… it's the only way I can make it out here. Pray for me. Tomorrow I'm gonna be dropped onto an enemy missile silo with a few guys from Alpha.

Day 2,

I've began the journey to the silo about an hour ago by hovercarrier. It's the first time I've ever been in one and I'm getting queasy just sitting here typing. It's nothing like the jets we flew around in in boot camp. In these new hover vehicles, there is no turbulence whatsoever. You can't even tell you're moving, and watching the ground below you race by in a flurry of icy forest can make even the toughest stomach churn. Another factor that's making me nauseous right now is the fact that these things are very unreliable. Studies show that nearly a fourth of these hovercrafts will crash or explode while in duty. That's a gamble that I can't believe the EU is going to chance. Just yesterday a carrier went down in a forest to the north, shot down by infantry. It's insane how devastating a single person can be. I'm logging off now, my fingers are shaking too much to type anymore.

Day 2,

I'm stranded just to the west of my target objective. I managed to jump from the carrier just before those God damned PACs shot it down. I don't think anyone made it alive… my buddy was on that ship. I need to keep going or else the fallout from the fuel will suffocate me alive. I lost my spare ammunition on the hovercraft, I've only got the clip in my gun to save me from whatever is out there ahead of me. Hopefully I can find some casualties from the crash that aren't blown apart too badly… their equipment is the only thing that will enable me to make it out alive.

Day 3,

I found my friend Billy Montgomery, a Brit who transferred from Liverpool the day I arrived. He was lying in a pile of shrapnel that was stained with his blood. As I approached him to scavenge for his supplies, he spoke to me. It was a tearful moment as he told me that he had a wife and children. He gave me a note he had in his pocket and told me that if I made it out alive, that I need to give it to his family. Sadly, before I could say goodbye, his life drained from him in a series of bloody coughs. I'll pray for you, buddy.

Day 4,

I've dug a foxhole in a small valley just before the silo. The base is swarming with infantry and I'm no match for them. I have no contact with the commander so I cannot issue reinforcements. The only thing I can do is to sneak inside the base and use the enemy's videograph to call in more troops. This will be by far the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life. I can't guarantee my life will remain intact, in fact, I doubt it.

Day 5,

I've just found my opening, a battalion of soldiers has just left the base, leaving only a few remaining guard. I'm bringing my gun of course, but also my knife. Stealth is going to be the key to survival.

Day 5,

I've called in the reinforcements. The commander has sent a fully armed hovercarrier that should be here by 0700 tomorrow morning. But there's something much, much more heavy that is bearing down on my mind right now. I've murdered a man. He didn't even have a chance, I ran up to him and plunged my knife into his throat. It's nothing like the old movies I've seen. No, nothing like it. In real life, they plead and cry for help. They curse you and scream at you through the rivers of blood pulsing from their neck. They slowly drown on their own blood as they gasp for air, and slowly their life ends with one loud gurgle. And the worst part is, it could have easily been prevented. He wasn't even standing between my goal and I… he was just a bystander. A bystander doing his job to protect his country… a bystander with a family… maybe a wife and kids… and I've taken that away. I feel so hideously ashamed of myself that I can't believe what I've become. The war has already changed me, and it's only the fifth day. I have 4 long years ahead of me… full of things far worse than what I have gone through…

Day 7,

Reinforcements came and I was flown back to the titan. I'm in my bunk right now reflecting on the things I've gone through. In two days, I get shipped out again, this time to the front line of a full scale battle. I don't know if I'll live… this military operation that is about to occur is among the magnitude of D-Day, nearly 200 years ago. I wonder if the men back then felt as scared and empty as I am now. This may be the last time I ever type in this short diary I've kept for the past week. But let's hope to God it isn't.


End file.
